


Orochimaru walks through the nightlife district

by goddamnitaisha



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-10 10:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15947333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitaisha/pseuds/goddamnitaisha
Summary: DISCONTINUED. He walks and has introspection. He does not interact with Shikamaru, I didn't write the part where he arrives. It's mostly worldbuilding. Story with a long start, no middle, no end.





	Orochimaru walks through the nightlife district

**Author's Note:**

> DISCONTINUED, was meant for staginstasis.

Orochimaru was walking through the entertainment district. Square paper lanterns hung overhead suspended by cables, spanning from one side of the street to the other. There were at least fifty lantern cables, each attached to the next building of the long street. The lanterns grew smaller and smaller until they went around the corner. 

Orochimaru thought it would be nice to be a lantern and have a cable of support, a guide in life. Now he was Jounin-bodyguard under the Hokage and R&D supervisor under Danzo. Others could do shinobi missions. All he could do was stand like a penguin at day, waggling aft the Hokage, and cut up bodies at night. Every ninja carried information in them: which muscle groups were trained, what they ate, how their bloodline limit worked. He disposed of Konoha’s secrets so those stayed secret. 

He was drifting in the same routine. Today he had cut up a friend, and even that was routine. He lift his face to the wind and it blew his thoughts away. The lantern’s red light made everything look romantic, the smoky bars, the nervous tourists, even the guy that was squatted down and puking in the gutter. 

He convulsed, and retched.

Orochimaru walked by. He gave him a little push. 

The guy toppled. He had to put one hand in the middle of his own vomit. 

Orohimaru had hoped for a nosedive. He walked on.  “Fu fu fu…”  

This is where he could have ended up. So easily! This was a small town just far enough outside Konohagakure to be unknown, and just close enough to litter it with crime. It only fell under Konoha’s jurisdiction when there was something to gain. Then it would send in this group of firmly-unhappy-looking Uchihas who saw this place as the spider-nest of criminals and law-breakers, and who wanted nothing more than to see this cute little street burned to the ground.

He could’ve ended up here. After the death of his parents, Sarutobi-sensei could have sold Orochimaru to one of these brothels. _Heavens,_  every time he caught a glimpse of himself in the window reflection, he could see that he was beautiful He would’ve had the beauty to reign this street like a queen. He stopped walking. He stared at his reflection, ran a hand over his pale face. 

“Geisha? Half-hourly wage?”

Orochimaru was interrupted from his thoughts to see two very smartly dressed businessmen in front of him. Geisha? Mm. His white kimono must have triggered that assumption. He said: “I’m a customer, too.”

“Oh!” both men looked surprised. “Sorry!” and the other said “Whoa, I’m sorry. My mistake.”

“Fu fu fu… it’s okay.” He glided past them like a water spirit, and relished in the compliment. He thought now that he could have said yes, and taken them to a back street or love hotel. Utter strangers. Unknown ages, no names, only money. Now _that_ was an enticing thought. 

Orochimaru could have looked back, turned back, but he didn’t. He turned into a new alleyway without lanterns, to drop off a package of drugs directly into the office of a customer of ROOT. He stopped. He changed his mind. He went back to the main street, and he took the main entrance. The lounge was filled with candles. It was an outright fire hazard. If the owners didn’t look out, the Uchiha would get their blaze. 

“Excuse me. I’m here to drop off a package. Quick question, if you don’t mind. Do you have dirt-bloods here?”

The madam stood up from her sofa, she was newly employed, and “Certainly, certainly! We’ve got a half-Shimura here, a half-Kwari, a…” she lowered her voice. “…second-generation Hyuuga.”

He scowled. “I’m not here for _second_ -generation.” He went for either half-pure or not at all. Besides, a child of an illegitimate outcast child would probably be wearing white-mesh lenses. It would hardly be able to see through those. No, Orochimaru wanted to be seen. He wanted an connection. So he asked:  “Who’s your youngest?”

Interrupting: “We have a pureblood here.” 

That surprised him. 

She quickly continued: “He’s not the youngest, but-”

Orochimaru left the doormat to take off his shoes, and put them at the side. He stepped onto the wooden floor, which was cold, and a terrible combination with those candles. “Tell me more. I’m not saying I’m buying.”

“Are you a cop?” Weary.

“Look at my eyes, dear. Do they look black? No.” Use your brain. He sat down on a sofa. He slid the package her direction. “500 grams of Tradifal. Don’t use it up in one go. The Land of the Water is in civil war again, it may be a little while until the blood and sharks have cleared the water and the shelldivers can continue. Shipments prospects are guesses. Six months. Nine. Depends on how much food Konoha can steal from behind the molars of starving children this time. 

“That is very anti-Konoha,” she said. “Where are you from? Are you a missing nin? We don’t sell to non-native customers.”

Orochimaru reached inside his yukata and took out his forehead protector. “I’m as loyal as this establishment is lawful.”

That made her quiet. 

“Tell me more about the pureblood.” He sank deeper into the sofa, crossing his legs. 

“Nara clan. His father-”

“Which side-branch?”

“Main branch.”

Orochimaru veered to the edge of his seat. Main branch?! “No _,_ ” he said, disbelieving.

“His father sent him here. First sent Shikamaru to the shinobi Academy, but he was always lazy, never worked. Nara-sama brought him here for a ‘mission’ but never picked him up. While later, he was murdered by his wife.”

 _But not before putting a second heir in her,_ Orochimaru knew. Lady Nara’s execution had been postponed to after the birth. 

“The Nara family? Uncles, aunts? Grandparents?” 

She laughed. “He’s damaged goods. Bad domestic background. Sexual abuse. He’s lazy, missed ninja training often, hardly knows any of those ninja tricks. He’s insulting, stupid.“

 _The Nara clan is clever enough to not pick up a dysfunctional heir,_ he thought, _and raise the second one completely to their tastes instead._

“Isn’t the family afraid of dirtbloods?”

“Oh no, Shikamaru hates women. It’s the only time he puts up a fight, really. Rest of the time we give him sleepy time tea. You’re not a woman, are you? I can’t tell. Or you are, yes.” 

“I’m a man.”

“But if you identify as-”

“Don’t.” He smiled. He stood up. “Really, don’t.”

“Your body doesn’t decide-.”

“I have a penis. I’m a man. Where’s Shikamaru?” 

He had secretly swallowed puberty blockers of one kind, because his body hadn’t felt right. But the flaw had been not in himself, but in the culture: sexualizing him, disrespecting him, making him feel out of place. Instead of fighting, he’d internalized a different truth. 

Then later, had swallowed hormones of the opposite kind. Broad shoulders, sharper cheekbones, stronger hands. He wondered who he looked more like, his father or his mother. 

He regretted nothing and everything. Good or bad? This was him now. He was forever in-between. Fluid, like water, and taking whatever he could. If people would stand in his way, he would chide them. There was no gender, only power.

——-

"You're dispicable"  
Orochimaru chuckled into Shikamaru’s neck, pinned him down more, and nipped the skin under his ear. “Mmm. So they say.” He brushed his smile over a muscle. “Do you get paid to insult me?” 

 


End file.
